


Eyes Closed to the Wreckage

by caesiumlight



Series: You Get One Life; No More, No Less [2]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, M/M, warnings: universe typical violence/mature themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-14
Updated: 2018-04-14
Packaged: 2019-04-22 15:35:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14311836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caesiumlight/pseuds/caesiumlight
Summary: Five times Lucas falls asleep next to Ten by accident, and the one time he does it on purpose.





	Eyes Closed to the Wreckage

1.

He’s groggy and disoriented when he cracks open his eyes. It takes a minute, maybe two, before his vision clears up enough to see the arm that’s decidedly not his in front of his face. There’s a scar near the crook of its owner’s elbow that Lucas remembers a stray bullet causing. The mission, the near death encounters, those he remembers. The unanimous decision by both of them to get thoroughly wasted. He just doesn’t remember—this.

His pulse spikes. Deep breaths, Lucas tries to tell himself. It’s no big deal. Adrenaline, tension, heightened awareness; all perfect ingredients for agents falling in with each other. When they first started, they were even told it was to be expected. Control doesn’t encourage it, but they don’t forbid it either—as long as it doesn’t affect their ability to do their job.

Lucas inches away discreetly, trying to assess why he’s in panic mode. Is he simply worried it might be problematic the next time they take a mission together? No, no, they’re professionals. It’d be ridiculous to get hung up over something as trivial as this.

As if to prove his point right, Ten stirs. Blinks once, twice, before fixing a tired but sincere grin at him. He doesn’t look the slightest bit uncomfortable. He just looks, well, good. Lucas swallows noisily around the scratchiness of his throat.

“Good morning.” Ten stretches himself out casually, and Lucas doesn’t know if he should be relieved or worried that he’s acting like nothing happened. Right now, he just feels sick.

“How’s your arm?” he ventures before the silence can get heavy. Safe topics; injuries, weapons, life threatening situations, those are the things he knows how to deal with.

Ten glances at his elbow, before shrugging. “It’s been through worse.”

Lucas nods, formulating an escape route. One of the first things they’re taught as well. “Pick up’s in an hour. I’ll get some breakfast ready.” He doesn’t wait for Ten’s response, desperate as he is to put some space between them, and instead flees to the kitchen. “Eggs?” he yells when he’s out of the danger zone. _Goddamnit_ , he’s a coward.

“You know I’ll eat anything you make,” Ten calls back playfully, and Lucas has to steady himself against the counter from the mental images the response sends his way. He flips the radio on under the pretence of some normalcy, but mostly to drown out the sounds of the shower going.

The journey back to HQ is an uneventful one, but Lucas is on edge and fidgety. Ten senses it and gives him a respectful berth, and Lucas tries not to feel like a jerk. He even offers to do their report back at HQ so that Lucas can get an early night.

“Sorry,” Lucas mumbles. “I don’t know why I’m so… tired.”

Ten’s easy smile turns his insides out. “Shoo, I’ve got this. Go home.”

Lucas doesn’t go home. He does however, drop by Jungwoo’s office. “What happened yesterday night?” he demands.

Jungwoo’s eyes narrow. “Do you actually think I’m spying on you all the time?”

Lucas snorts. There were undoubtedly cameras at the safe house. “You’re my handler. I _know_ you’re spying on me all the time.”

Two computers down, Mark’s trying to stifle his laughter, amidst Jungwoo’s affronted _For your own good!_ “We’ve all been there.”

“Yes, but in your case Taeyong actually appreciates your spying,” Jungwoo grumbles. Lucas wants to smile at the red that so quickly fills Mark’s cheeks. “My spoiled, ungrateful agent here doesn’t even—”

Lucas clears his throat, long used to Jungwoo’s penchant for the dramatic. “A little help please, Jungwoo. I can’t remember anything.”

“That’s what happens when you down an entire bottle.”

Mark lets out a low whistle, and Lucas winces. It wasn’t even good scotch. But it was all the apartment had to offer. He presses the heel of his palm to his forehead. “What did I do after?”

“Nothing,” Jungwoo says flatly.

Lucas blinks. “Nothing?”

“You passed out. I stopped caring when you stopped responding.”

“That’s cold, man,” he complains.

“Well, Ten was around, so I knew you were gonna be alright.”

Lucas glances furtively around them, lowers his voice. It seems odd to ask his handler such questions, but Jungwoo’s been with him from the start. Lucas trusts him. “Did the two of us—”

Jungwoo frowns. “The answer’s no, if you’re asking what I think you’re asking. He fell asleep right after helping you to bed.”

“Oh.” That settles it then. He should be relieved. No awkward reunions, no possibility of unwanted tension on a mission. “That’s good,” he tries, aiming for convincing.

“Hey,” Jungwoo says softly, reaching out for Lucas’ shoulder. “You alright?”

“Fine, fine,” he says, waving aside Jungwoo’s concern. “I just wanted to know, that’s all.”

He’s on autopilot as he drives back home. His apartment feels foreign and lonely to him, as it usually does after a mission. It always takes some time to wind down and adjust back to normality. Sleep evades him despite his exhaustion, and he tries to wile the hours away by cataloguing his body’s pains. The strained muscle running from neck to shoulder, from where he remained motionless in his sniper’s position for four hours straight. The wound in his thigh from a momentary distraction in a knife fight. The giant bruise on his hip from barrelling his way through a door. The ache in his chest from what he comes to name as disappointment.

 

 

2.

Lucas isn’t fond of honeypot missions. And though Control makes it clear that he has the right to refuse, he rarely does. Maybe it’s a sense of misplaced duty, but Lucas doesn’t like the idea of passing off something like that to somebody else, who might just as equally find the experience distasteful.

The dossier describing their target outlines the man’s preferences clinically. Lucas goes through the list, mentally checking off each requirement against himself. He’s a good match. He tells Control he accepts.

They give him a partner for backup, and Lucas gnaws his lip when he finds out its Ten. It’s been a month since they last saw each other, but Lucas can’t rid his mind of phantom images of the smile Ten gave him when he first woke. Despite knowing nothing had happened. And of all the missions they could go on together after that, it has to be one in which Lucas deliberately seduces someone else.

The uneasy feeling only worsens when Ten greets him with an unusually serious face. His voice is tight when he says, “We can do this another way, if you want.”

Lucas blinks, taken aback. He’s not sure how Ten figured he was uncomfortable. He’s right though, they can go about this another way. But it’d be complicated. With a lowered chance of success. “It’s fine,” he insists. He thinks about explaining his reasons, but he’s got a strong feeling Ten wouldn’t be happy with them. “I can get it done.”

Ten gazes at him, assessing. Lucas tries not to feel stripped bare. “Alright,” Ten finally relents, though it’s clear he’s upset over something. “In and out. We’ll make this quick. I’ll cover you.”

“It’s fine,” Lucas says again. He smiles at Ten, anything to lift the heaviness in his partner’s shoulders. “I’m not worried.”

 _I am_ , he thinks he hears Ten mumble, but their driver alights them at the hotel. Their target’s the organizer of a charity fundraiser, and it’d be the ideal place to get close to him. In an attempt to pull off a grand event for his embezzlement schemes, the guest list is thick with names of wealthy donors and socialites, people he doesn’t even know, and their presence won’t be questioned. Ten gives him a short nod at the entrance, before weaving himself expertly through the crowd, keeping within range but not so close as to attract the target’s attention.

A tilt of his head here, a press of his hand there, and the man follows Lucas to the bar without so much as a thought. It should be laughable, how easy it’s going, but all he feels is a mild annoyance. Lucas needs the drive in the right breast pocket, containing the bank information of a good number of the people at the party, and with the way the man’s leaning up against him, it’s not going to be a problem. They talk, Lucas orders another round of drinks, and the man’s hands wander further. _Asshole_ , Lucas can’t help but think as he lets his hands drift as well, and skillfully pluck the drive out of the man’s jacket.

The man’s gesticulating broadly, boasting about the suite he has in the penthouse of the hotel, as Lucas takes another sip of his drink. Lucas wants very badly not to go there, but he can’t slip away now without causing suspicion. If he can just—

They’re interrupted by a massive crash, vehemently loud amidst the murmuring of the crowd. “What in the world,” the man snaps, getting up abruptly. He hurries to the center of the hall, where the entire arrangement of wine glasses now lies broken on the floor. “What happened here?” Lucas hears the target demand, and he takes that as his cue.

He stands but the world suddenly spins, and Lucas drops to his knees, shuddering. His vision shutters, and his stomach lurches. _Sedative_ , he makes out dazedly, glancing at his half-empty drink on the counter. He curses himself for his carelessness. How could he not have noticed? Lucas tries to heave himself up, but his body’s too heavy, and his knees refuse to cooperate.

“Lean on me,” and he finds himself being hauled up to his feet. “Easy, Lucas,” Ten commands gently when he stumbles. “I’ve got you. Lean on me.”

Ten guides him steadily out the hotel through a fire exit, and they slip out unchecked. He throws an arm around Lucas’ waist the moment they’re outside, and half carries him to their waiting driver a block down. Ten bundles him into the car, and the driver peels off.

 _Strong_ , Lucas thinks distantly, as he curls closer into Ten. _Safe_. The grip around his waist tightens protectively. Comforting whereas the target’s had been possessive. Lucas wants to weep.

His eyes slip close.

 

 

3.

“This is becoming a habit of yours,” is the first thing he hears when he cracks his eyes open. He lifts his aching head up from where it’s been nestled in the crook of Ten’s shoulder. Lucas sucks in a laboured breath, then regrets it instantly; they’ve bruised his ribs. The place they’re being held in is dim, but he can make out the dark bruise circling Ten’s right eye, and his bloodied lip.

“Fuck,” Lucas groans. “How long was I out?”

“A while,” Ten confirms, eyes searching him concernedly, probing for more injuries, and despite their less than ideal situation, warmth blooms in Lucas’ chest. “How’re you feeling?”

Like he’s been run over by a truck. “Fine,” he says instead.

Ten looks unconvinced, but he starts to outline the patterns he’s picked up while Lucas was still unconscious—how many guards, intervals between rotations, who they might be working for. Their holding cell’s pretty solid, so the likeliest (and riskiest) chance of escape lies when their captors return to continue the interrogation.

“Were you frisked?”

Ten nods. “I got nothing.”

“They missed this,” Lucas says triumphantly, cracking the heel of his boot open to reveal a knife. This is why he always keeps a spare. “It’s not going to be much, but—”

“It’s something,” Ten grins. It’s amazing how it lights up his entire face. “You wonderful man.”

 _Piss poor timing_ , the rational part of Lucas chides. He shoves the thought roughly aside and tries to attribute his pounding heart to adrenaline. Later, grossly outnumbered, he’ll marvel at how his pulse conversely remains deathly calm even with the absurd odds stacked against them.

“If we get out of this alive,” Ten says as they face down their guards, “I’ll lend you my shoulder again.”

It sounds like a promise. Lucas laughs, and gives Ten a look that he’s sure is equal parts enamoured and hopeful. “Deal.”

 

 

4.

In one of the final interviews before they’re certified, they’re asked why they chose to apply. It’s a rather redundant question in his opinion, but he tried to answer as honestly as he could.

“I want to help,” Lucas had said.

When he was assigned to Jungwoo, the handler took one look at his file and cussed Control out for sending him a bleeding heart. They hadn’t gotten along at first. Jungwoo suspended him once, for putting himself in needless danger because he’d gone off and tried to save some unknown person’s life. They’d fought, fists and all, and Lucas discovered his handler could more than easily hold his own in a brawl. “Stop being a fool,” Jungwoo had yelled through his split lip, and it was only then that Lucas identified the pinch in his handler’s expression as worry. “You can’t save everyone.”

He’s cruelly reminded of the cold truth of those words now. It’s not uncommon for agents to have bad days, but this time, it feels like a hollowness threatening to swallow him. The ache in his chest hurts worse than a knife wound. He stares blankly at the now empty warehouse, which once held dozens of hostages. In their intervention, some of them had escaped. But Lucas doesn’t know what happened to the girl he’d promised to rescue. He can’t find her.

His knees hit the floor, and it takes a while to recognize the keening wail as his. His shoulders tremble with the force of his sobs, and he claws at the ground uselessly.

There’s a presence at his side suddenly, and Lucas is pulled into an embrace. Ten cradles him securely with one hand gripping his. He doesn’t say anything, only strokes the back of Lucas’ neck. Lucas shakes harder in relief, breath stuttering, because he doesn’t know if he’d be able to pull himself out of this black hole alone. Ten holds him until he has nothing left, no tears left to soak the bloodied ground.

“Sleep,” Ten murmurs, and in plain exhaustion and grief, Lucas does.

 

 

5.

If Lucas could assign a boon and bane to each one of them, it’d look something like this: Jaehyun’s got experience and uncanny instincts in spades, but it’s weighed out by his impulsiveness at times. Taeyong’s strength lies in his sheer skill across fields, but he suffers in the emotional department. Ten’s their prodigious combatant, and he’s got ingenuity and resourcefulness hidden like tricks up his sleeve, and maybe he’s a little biased, but Lucas can’t really think of a weakness.

Lucas considers himself a weapon specialist, but that seems useless at this point, because he’s sure his fatal flaw is his shit luck.

He’s bleeding out in a chair in some godforsaken place. He’s long stopped cataloguing his body’s injuries; it’s better not to let his mind wander down that path. Every nerve in his body is on fire, and it’s sorely testing his resolve to stay awake. Or alive. He’s not sure he can take another round.

There’s a sudden bang, followed by a clamour of noise outside. Lucas’ vision is blurry, but he thinks he sees his team bursting in. He thinks he sees Ten.

“Oh god no,” Ten whispers, frantic and horrified and helpless all at once. “Wake up, Lucas please, _please wake up_.”

 _I’m awake_ , he wants to say, but his throat won’t work. He’d screamed himself hoarse earlier. Swift hands bind his gaping wound, and his bonds are cut.

“Let’s get him out,” Jaehyun’s voice is hard as steel.

“Come on, buddy,” Taeyong’s at his side, slinging an arm around his shoulder. “Extraction’s on the roof.”

 _Roof?_ Lucas wants to complain. _Can’t really do stairs at the moment_ , but Ten’s by his other side in an instant, supporting his weight.

“Lean on me,” Ten coaxes, and he’s reminded of a mission not too long ago, in which those exact words had been said. If he were in a better state, Lucas might even feel slightly petulant at the number of times he’s been rescued by Ten.

Miraculously, he makes it up with their help. A copter’s waiting for them, and Taeyong straps him securely down. “Go,” Jaehyun commands, and the pilot lifts them away.

“Cold,” Lucas manages to mumble. It’s only now that he’s aware of the snow-capped mountains floating by in the periphery of his view.

Ten rips open a packet containing a space blanket, and carefully bundles him in it. Neither Jaehyun nor Taeyong make a single comment when he lowers himself down next to Lucas, and wraps himself protectively around him. They move up to the front of the copter, giving them space. “You’re alright,” Ten is saying, voice rent with anguish. “I'm here, Lucas, I’ve got you now, you’re alright, you’re alright.”

He wants to assure Ten, say something— _don’t cry_ , _it’s fine_ , _I’m fine_ , but he’s just too tired. He falls asleep just as they cross back into familiar airspace.

 

 

+1.

“You’re gonna be okay,” Jaehyun informs him, a hand on his cheek.

Taeyong hands him a bar of chocolate with an awkward get-well card. “In what I thought would be my last moments,” Lucas informs him, “all I could think of was how poorly you fared in these aspects.”

Their laughter fades when he asks them about Ten, however. The agent’s nowhere to be found. “Don't worry,” Jaehyun says carefully, which of course only serves to make Lucas worry harder. “I’m sure he’ll come by soon.”

Jungwoo hovers around his side for two weeks like a worried mother hen. It’s only once he’s been cleared for physical therapy that Lucas manages to convince his handler that he won’t keel over and die on his next breath. Jungwoo relents, and Lucas throws himself into rehab to get his mind off the gaping presence at HQ. He doesn’t want to consider the implications of why Ten isn’t around.

It’s only a month later that he finally shows up, outside the room in which Lucas is trying to teach himself how to move again. He has the posture of a man seeking absolution. But Lucas is upset, he’s troubled, and he’s hurt as well. His half-healed wound stings, and he’s finding it hard to be charitable. “Where were you,” he says, quiet but accusing.

Ten doesn’t flinch, but it’s a close thing. “Unfinished business.”

“Which you couldn’t tell me about?”

“ _Unsanctioned_ , unfinished business.”

Lucas stares, realization dawning. “The people that got me—” He stops abruptly. One look at Ten’s cold expression and he knows the fate that befell his captors. Lucas settles himself wearily on a bench. He doesn’t know what to say.

Ten sits by him, a respectful, clinical distance away. “I had to.”

Lucas whips his gaze to him, angry now. That Ten so recklessly went about something so _pointless_ makes him sick. He sees the careful way Ten’s holding himself, the slight limp in his gait, and knows he went and did a number on himself. “If you knew me at all, you’d know I would have never condoned a suicidal, revenge mission.”

“You’re right, of course.” Ten hunches in on himself, hands clutching his knees. “Don’t get this twisted. I did this for me. I couldn’t stand seeing you in that hospital bed, knowing that the people who did this to you were still out there.”

Lucas feels his heart rendering. He sees it now for what it is, Ten’s helplessness culminating in the need to do something, _anything_ to assuage his guilt. “This wasn’t your fault.”

Ten lets out a bitter, humourless laugh. “Maybe.”

“Listen here.” Lucas shifts closer, looking Ten in the eye. He knows his next words are important, and he needs for Ten to believe him. “This wasn’t your fault. And it’ll take some time, but I’m gonna be fine.”

“Yeah?” Ten says, sounding very much like a lost child.

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry I went off like that.”

“I forgive you.”

Ten sighs, like a weight has been lifted, but Lucas can tell that there’s still something bothering him. “In the month I spent away from you, I’ve come to terms with the fact that there’s little I wouldn’t do to keep you safe,” he confesses, giving Lucas a sad, small smile so unlike the ones he usually wears. He sounds oddly resigned. “It’s okay. You don’t have to do anything. I’ll be fine with you just knowing.”

Lucas reaches forward, and very tentatively, as if approaching a trapped animal, takes Ten’s hand. “Why are you assuming I’ve already said no?”

Ten blinks, before flushing. He stares at Lucas' hand. “You kinda freaked the first time you woke up next to me,” he mumbles.

Lucas’ jaw drops. “You—that’s—what, oh my god Ten. That’s what you’re basing my answer on?”

“What else should I have based it on?” Ten asks, embarrassed now.

“Oh my god,” Lucas says again. “How about the numerous utterly besotted looks I’ve thrown your way, or I don’t know, the fact that even my handler probably knows I’ve been in love with you for the longest time? You idiot, I freaked because I didn’t want what we did together to have been an accident, but it didn’t matter anyway because nothing actually happened, and I moped for weeks after that, and honest to god, you couldn’t even tell? I’m going to have to do a little reassessing, and reassign the title of most emotionally stunted agent from Taeyong to _you_ , Ten.” He’s babbling, he knows, but Lucas doesn’t even care. He wants to shake Ten senseless, he wants to pull Ten close. “I can’t believe you went away because you thought I said no, when you could’ve been here, beside me—”

He’s cut off by Ten’s lips on his. “I get it,” Ten breathes, cradling his face. “I get it, I’m an idiot, and I love you.”

“Then take me home,” Lucas implores. “Stay with me, and don’t go off where I can’t see you. Let me fall asleep next to you, like you promised.”

“I promised, huh,” Ten says, a little playful now.

Lucas huffs. “The mission in which I still don't know how we both got out, if I recall correctly.”

Ten grins at him, and the heaviness residing in Lucas’ chest for the past month seems to dissipate. They’re not naïve; they know it won’t be easy, and they have a ways to go before they heal. Lucas will wake up with the mountain prison flashing beneath his eyelids, and Ten will feel the full force of his guilt crashing down. But they’ll find each other, and Ten will hold Lucas tight.

“Sleep,” he will say, and Lucas will find it in him to do so.


End file.
